Beneath the Moonless Sky and the Rising Sun
by Alex Lee Rowan
Summary: What I say happened in the song 'Beneath a Moonless Sky'.


In the darkness of a moonless sky, a woman cautiously picked her way towards a figure masked completely in darkness, with the soft unexplained grace of a swan. Her heart racing in her chest, she arrived at his side, for a moment allowing the silence to linger between them before a breath of words left her lips, "I must go." Although blunt and to the point, the words were spoken with a calm, almost loving sense, a whisper in the cool darkness.

She trembled slightly in his presence, reaching up her hand to remove the white mask on his face, pressing the smoothness of her skin against the deformed surface of his. A shiver ran through her body at the touch of his hands on her waist, her eyes meeting his in the darkness. And then, quite suddenly, his lips were against hers, his arms around her waist, pulling her closer to him; so close she could hear the pulse thudding through him.

Want bloomed through her chest as his hands roamed upwards, sliding across her curves with gentle fingers. Her breath gasped through her mouth as his lips slid from hers, down her jawline to her neck, his rough hand cupping the other side of her neck.

And then the pressure of his lips was gone, evaporated into the darkness around them.

"Angel?" Her voice quivered, her eyes searching for that lone mystery that so unceremoniously captured a nearly married woman's lips, claiming her once and for all for his own dark wishes.

His voice fell through the air, softly, uncertainly, "Ch-Christine..." he whispered, "we s-shouldn't." It was the first time she had ever heard him stutter, it came as a bit of a surprise that such a powerful being such as he would stutter.

"Please?" she heard herself murmur.

She was swept into his strong arms again, his hands roaming down her young body, his inexperienced fingers fumbling with the lacing of her corset, both their hearts hammering at a psychopathic rate. Her nose brushed his, his breath hot on her face.

"Are you sure?" His voice was gentle, as were his fingers as he brushed the tips across the smooth flawlessness of her face, brushing a curl back behind her ear. "I..." he paused, hanging his head a bit, "I don't want to hurt you..."

She nuzzled close to him, resting her smooth cheek against the rough indented surface of his. Her breath tickled his ear when she spoke, "You won't," her lips brushed the tender surface of his deformation, "I trust that you won't."

Their lips met again, lust and passion fueling her to do things she never could ever imagined doing. She ran her hands across his muscled chest as his hands traced the curve of her as he slowly removed her corset, fiddling with the nightgown before allowing it to fall into a graceful puddle at her feet.

She was in his arms the next she knew, he was kissing her, his hands roaming her body, her back against the smooth silk of the bed, his weight above her. In the darkness, their bodies tangled and their breath mingled, satisfying a long overdue desire.

She was asleep peacefully, her hair slightly askew which prompted him to brush it gently away, his fingertips lingering against her cheek. She was so beautiful, the perfect angel. Pain struck him hard and fast and he nearly winced. What sort of monster was he to steal the kiss from such a perfect angel? But then what did that say about Christine? Had she not prompted the act before it even occurred? He shook his head slightly, his silvery blue orbs flickering once more to the beautiful brunette nestled in his arms, her head against his shoulder and her hand on his bare chest.

Shame trickled through his entire being, his teeth digging into his lip as he glanced towards her, and then towards the faint glimmers of daylight stretching across the horizon. A sigh slid through his lips as he glanced back towards the piece of heaven in his arms.

Would it be so bad to just stay? He thought, chewing at his lip. She's going to be married, Erik you fool, he told himself, sighing, his eyes flickering back towards the perfection in his arms. A frown creased his face as he leaned down, kissing her brow. "Forgive me..." he whispered, his lips brushing her ear.

She stirred only slightly as he carefully unwound his arm from around her slim shoulders, rising from the bed and slipping on his clothes, casting a sorrowful glance over his shoulder towards his Christine.

"Forget me."

The two were the last he spoke before vanishing...

The bed was cold and vacant when she awoke the next morning, ready to swear her love to the deformed angel she'd come to love. He was gone. The force of those three words hit her with such force that her breath came in a startled intake, a choked sob falling through her lips next.

"Angel...?"

Her voice cracked as she looked around, rising and pulling the nightgown around her naked form. "Angel!?" She rushed out, her bare feet slapping against the ground as she entered the room where his piano lay, his beautiful piano. She expected to see him there, composing.

But he was not.

The bench was empty, the piano untouched.

"Oh Angel...my Angel of Music..." she whispered, tears skidding down her face as she sank to her knees. "I love you," she whispered, her shoulders shaking and small hiccups of grief exited her lips.

She would never forget that night; _that night beneath a moonless sky_.


End file.
